


Of Blood and Honor

by TheBlackMorals



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Anger, Brotherly Angst, Brothers, Gen, Mentions of Blood, Revenge, Spoilers, Swearing, Twins, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackMorals/pseuds/TheBlackMorals
Summary: History's chains bind him too tightly. A short story detailing Gabranth's background, motivations, and lust for vengeance.
Kudos: 6





	Of Blood and Honor

**Author's Note:**

> As this is written mainly from Gabranth's point of view, Reddas is referred to as Judge Zecht and Vann 'the boy', and Gabranth knows nothing about the Occuria.

Orange flames of scorching magicks flow through the air, surrounding Pharos’ tower, and the sound is deafening, roaring, yet somehow quiet at the same time too. Impossible, but real, like white noise in the background as Gabranth waits for the most opportune moment to reveal his presence. He had followed the group there, the Princess and her entourage, stalking his prey like only a man hell-bent on revenge could, and he knew this was it. He would finally claim the blood he was owed.

“Lord Rassler?” Basch gasps as he stares at the bluish apparition in front of Princess Ashe, his voice full of shock and disbelief. 

“You want revenge. You would have me use the Stone? You would have me destroy the Empire?” the Princess yells at it, her voice shrill and full of pain and anguish at her own fate, “Is this my duty? Is this what you want?” 

She pauses for a moment, defeated. 

“I cannot.” 

_Cannot...?_ So damn weak! So undeserving! Gabranth can barely contain the anger that rushes through him, hot and thick, acrid at the back of his throat. He had been sent there by Lord Larsa to report back on Princess Ashe’s intentions in regard to the war at hand, but hearing her answer enrages him into action before he even has a chance to think. How could she refuse to exact vengeance for the wrongs committed against her and her kingdom?

“Why do you hesitate? Take what is yours!” Gabranth slips out from behind the stone column and steps into view, a sword in each hand. Exasperation mixing with anger, his heart is racing in his chest at this chance to take what is _his_ , too. “The Cryst is a blade. It was meant for you. Wield it! Avenge your father!”

How can she not want to do just that?

Where is her pride? Her honor?

Princess Ashe gasps at the sight of him, surprise quickly giving way to unbridled anger as she recognizes his Judge Magister armor, recognizes _him_. The true kingslayer. “Yes.” Gabranth confirms with a cruel drawl as he steps down from the window sill and starts stalking towards her, “It was _I_ who wore Basch’s face - who cut down the Life of Dalmasca. Lady Ashe! Your father’s murderer is here!”

“You?!” the Princess exclaims enraged.

“And Reks!” the young boy shouts, stepping in between Princess Ashe and Gabranth, his teeth gritted in anger.

Reks? Gabranth barely remember who that is, and cares so little he doesn’t even spare the churl a glance. No, the Princess has his full attention; her, and her alone. 

“I slew your king. I slew your country.” Gabranth goads her, while he connects his two swords, the longer Chaos Blade and the shorter Highway Star, into a dual-bladed weapon. He keeps walking towards her, still ignoring the boy and the rest of the group. Her anger and hatred would have amused him, had he not been so abhorred by her weakness and cowardice. “Do these deeds not demand vengeance?”

 _Vengeance_.

Oh yes, vengeance had been Gabranth's that day at Nalbina Fortress where he had killed King Raminas of Dalmasca, while impersonating his cursed twin brother. It had been easy, too easy; by spreading rumors of an assassination attempt on the King's life, he and Lord Vayne had tricked Basch and a force of his soldiers into storming the fortress to "rescue" King Raminas, only to find the King already dead. It had been a simple ploy to suspend peace negotiations and push Emperor Gramis to take over Dalmasca, but to Gabranth, it had been so much more than that. It had been _justice_ , framing Basch for the murder of his beloved king and country. 

Princess Ashe drops the Sword of Kings on the ground, then grabs the handle of the Trinity Blade with both hands. Trembling. Her eyes flashing with anger as she raises it to charge at him, looking every bit the young, feeble girl she truly is, brandishing a sword she can barely lift. 

Pathetic.

“Yes. Good! Find your wrath! Take up your sword! Fight, and serve those who died before you!” Gabranth continues to goad her as he walks towards the boy, raising his sword to cut him down simply for being in his way. Yet as he swings his blade it meets another blade instead of flesh and bone, sharp steel against sharp steel, strength against strength. 

“A Judge Magister there was… Two years past, he took in his hand the Midlight Shard, stolen from Nabradia, and used it not knowing what he did… and Nabudis was blown away. Cid ordered this of him to learn the nethicite’s true power.” Gabranth grits his teeth as the man speaks while holding his blade suspended mid air by equal force. There is something deeply familiar about his voice, but it can't be… “That man swore never to let such terrible power be used again. He forsook his Judicer’s plate, and his name.” Their swords lower just enough that Gabranth can finally see the man’s face. His indeed familiar face. Gabranth pushes him backwards, their swords parting with the deadly sound of steel cutting against steel, a sharp hiss.

“Judge Zecht!” Gabranth exclaims furiously. The man is supposed to be dead, blown away with Nabudis alongside his men, yet there he is, alive, protecting the enemy... 

Damn traitor!

They both ready their swords again, and Zecht deliberately shields the boy as he locks eyes with Gabranth, his former fellow Judge Magister. 

“It’s been too long, Gabranth.” Zecht says cockily, smirking. Looking at Gabranth, he then addresses Princess Ashe; “Reach out your hand, Lady Ashe. But remember, that which you must grasp is something beyond revenge, something greater than despair. Something beyond _our_ reach. Try as we might, Gabranth, history’s chains bind us too tightly."

Gabranth lets out a scoff, and their swords meet again, sparks flying between the blades. He manages to push Zecht to the side in the next moment, making the man stumble and fall ungracefully to the ground. Fool! To believe he had once worn the same uniform, had sworn the same oaths, the thought was downright infuriating!

“No, we cannot escape the past.” Gabranth points to Zecht lying on the ground, pathetic and defeated. “This man is living proof! What is your past, Daughter of Dalmasca? Did you not swear revenge?” He looks at the Princess who seems to be standing frozen in place. She looks down at his words, looking uncertain and distraught. “Do the dead not demand it?” 

She closes her eyes for a moment, then looks to the side in search of the apparition of her late husband. Obviously looking towards him for help to decide what to do; vengeance or defeat. Gabranth can barely contain a growl. What a pathetic little girl! She is not fit to rule, too righteous to shed the blood that is needed!

The boy picks up the sword lying next to him on the ground, again gritting his teeth in anger and lust for vengeance. He takes a step towards Gabranth, then for some reason turns his head to look at the Princess before going further. She looks back at him. They just look at each other for a long moment, then she gasps quietly. The boy is panting in anger, obviously barely able to contain it. 

Gabranth smirks behind his helmet. Finally someone gets it!

Then suddenly the princess’s face softens, and so does the boy’s, a silent understanding seeming to form between them. Princess Ashe looks back at the apparition of Prince Rassler, who is holding his hands out for her, beaconing her to the Sun-Cryst. She looks away again, at the ground for a long moment. Gabranth is about to move again, to cut down the boy for good, when she continues to speak.

“Rassler. My prince. Our time was short. Yet I know this:” The princess looks up at the apparition again, angry, yelling. “You were not the kind to take base revenge!” She swings the sword with all her might, cutting right through him. She then lowers the sword, letting out a gasped sigh full of loss and pain. “The Rassler I knew is gone.”

The apparition opens his mouth, a loud, ominous voice coming out. It doesn't sound human, and is obviously laced with equal anger at her choice. “ _You are our saint, Ashelia B’nargin. You must use the nethicite. You must be the one to straighten history’s weave!_ ”

Princess Ashe swings the sword and cuts through the apparition again. He disappears this time, evaporates in a shimmer of blue.

“I am no false saint for you to use!” she yells angrily.

“Ashe.” the boy breathes quietly.

“In all Dalmasca’s long history, not once did we rely on the Dawn Shard. Our people resolved never to use it, though their need might be dire.” she says, sighing quietly, “That was the Dalmasca I wanted back.” She drops the sword on the ground, her hands curling into fists. "To use the Stone now would be to betray that.” She turns back to face the boy. She looks determined. “I will destroy the Sun-cryst! I will discard the Stone!”

 _Discard_ …!?

“You claim no need of power?” Gabranth scoffs disgusted. Ashe turns her head to look at him. “What of your broken kingdom’s shame?” He points at her, yelling. “The dead demand justice!” 

His mother and homeland demand justice!

Gabranth and Basch grew up in the Republic of Landis, one of the countries on the continent of Valentia, before it was invaded by the Empire. It had been a happy childhood, the two of them the eldest children of their family and as close as any two brothers could be. Their father had died only years earlier, leaving the two of them as the protectors of their family. They were supposed to keep them safe… 

During the invasion, however, Basch fled their hometown to the Kingdom of Dalmasca to serve with the military, the Order of Knights, while Gabranth moved with his dying mother and the rest of their siblings to Archadia, her homeland, where he joined the Archadian Military at the tender age of seventeen. He climbed the ranks quickly, and with the backing of Emperor Gramis, became Judge Magister at an early age. Gabranth was then placed in charge of the 9th Bureau, primarily concerned with the gathering and dissemination of information for the Emperor. Lately, however, he had been tasked with protecting the Emperor's youngest son, Lord Larsa, as his bodyguard.

 _Larsa_...

No. Gabranth grits his teeth. For all those years, he had acted as a faithful Imperial, but in truth his motivations relate only to his hatred toward his dishonorable failure at protecting his homeland of Landis. And his seething hatred toward Basch, for abandoning him, their family and their sickly mother, to go fight for Dalmasca.

The only way to get justice was to take revenge on all--

“You’re wrong.” the boy says firmly, interrupting his chain of thought. Surprised, Gabranth turns his head to look at him. “What would change?" he says, "I can’t help my brother now. My brother’s gone.” He looks pained, then looks back up at Gabranth. His teeth once again gritted. “He’s dead.”

Princess Ashe starts walking forward, towards Gabranth. “Even with power, we cannot change what has passed. What is done, is done.” She holds the Dusk Shard in her hand. She looks at it, thoughtfully, then drops it to the floor, and it rolls toward Gabranth. It stops at his feet. _What is done, is done...?_ His whole body lurches, anger once again rushing through his bloodstream, thick and scorching.

“Yet without power, what future can you claim? What good a kingdom you cannot defend?" Gabranth yells, fed up with her weakness and excuses. Surely she would--

“Then I will defend queen and kingdom both!” Bash yells firmly, stepping towards Gabranth and shielding the boy in the process, sword drawn and ready to fight. 

Gabranth scoffs again. “Hah! Defend? You?” he swings his sword, cutting through the air, “You who failed Landis and Dalmasca? What can shame hope to keep safe?” Gabranth unequips his swords, again holding a sword in each hand. “Your oaths poison those you would protect!” He moves into battle stance, his swords raised, at the ready. 

= **battle ensues** =

“Hear me, Basch! Do not think killing the kingslayer will win you back your honor! When you abandoned home and kin, your name was forever stained with blood!” Gabranth’s voice is breathless, saturated in pain. He’s bleeding. Cut. Hurt. Yet he cares not. Pain is but his old, faithful companion.

“Aye, this stain is mine to bear. But I will bear it willingly, knowing I did all that I could… for hope!” Basch yells with a determined look on his face.

Self righteous bastard! After everything that had happened, after being imprisoned by his own brother for two years for regicide, tortured, interrogated, and kept alive while being informed of every failure his former knights suffered after the Archadian occupation, how did Basch still have hope? How did he still have honor?

No, it couldn't be any of those things! 

“Preen and strut as you like! In the end, we are the same! Blood-thirsting carrion birds, hell-bent on revenge!” Gabranth yells through gritted teeth, almost hissing. 

= **the battle continues** =

Gasping, his breathing labored, Gabranth staggers backwards. He lifts up his swords as best he can. Trying to get back into battle stance, but he can barely stand, stumbling, a specifically deep, nasty cut to his left side making his view blacken for a moment. 

“So you, too, would leave your debts unpaid?” Gabranth can barely talk, panting loudly, blood filling his mouth. Getting ready for one last pounce, knowing he is going to die there. Finally, his own debts will be paid... 

_If_ he can take his brother with him. 

Before Gabranth can rush Basch again though, a familiar voice sounds from behind him. That condescending drawl, he would recognize it anywhere. _Dr. Cid_. 

“Enough of this! I can bear no more!”

Gabranth turns his head to look at Cid walking up behind him. Cid is holding the Dusk Shard in his hand, a cocky look on his face.

“You disappoint me, Gabranth.”

 _Disappoint_ …? Gabranth grunts in confusion, unable to form words out of fear of collapsing. What the hell is he going on about?

“He trusted you.” Cid drawls while taking hold of Gabranth’s arm and pushing him away, making him stumble backwards too easily. “When you bared steel against the Princess, you forswore your obligations to your emperor! You shame yourself and make a mockery of Lord Larsa’s trust.” Cid mock studies the dead Stone. “You are unfit to serve him as sword or shield. And so I release you from that service. Your presence is neither required nor welcome.” 

Cid walks away from him, towards the Princess.

 _Shame_ …?!

Gabranth is fuming with anger, his hands tightening around the grips of his swords. He collects what little strength he has left and charges at Cid’s back with the roar of a wounded animal. 

“Gabranth!” Basch yells, alarmed.

Before Gabranth's swords can meet Cid’s back, however, something - a being of some sort - shields him; a shimmering figure with impossibly black eyes. Gabranth’s sword cuts through thin air. Wh-what? He looks around confused, only to find Cid suddenly standing next to him instead of in front of him. Before Gabranth can even blink, he is propelled back with such force it thrusts him right into one of the stone pillars. His back cracking, the back of his head colliding with iron and stone, his view blackening. He glides down the pillar to the floor, helpless, like a human ragdoll.

Gravely injured, dying, Gabranth vows to himself that this will not be his end. His view blurs over, blackening, he's barely able to breathe. No. He is going to pay his debts in full, be it (and it probably will be) the last thing he does.


End file.
